


Arrangements by Shiro

by muuny



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Anxiety, Because yes, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I Tried, Lots of flowers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a sweet angtsy sheith, also eventual bottom shiro, i just wanted to write a sweet sheith okay, impending angst, mentions of kidnapping and torture, nothing too deep though, shhh - Freeform, shiro's had enough pain in his life okay, umm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuny/pseuds/muuny
Summary: Shiro grows and sells his precious plants and flowers at his boutique downtown. One fateful day, Keith stops by to order flowers.And he falls for him, of course.~ a flower shop / college au ~





	1. Coriander

**Author's Note:**

> written for my love of flowers, shiro, and sheith~ [sis](http://juhnay.tumblr.com) helped me flesh this out and bring it to life. love ya, ya freak~
> 
> unbetaed. thanks for understanding. enjoy? :)

When Mrs. Holt initially came to Shirogane Takashi with the idea of the latter opening his own flower boutique, he would readily admit that he was a little apprehensive - well, _very_ apprehensive - about the whole thing. Essentially, a flower boutique was a business, and a business required social interaction with people, and with it being a year and a half or so after the Incident - _really? Has it already been more than a year?_ \- Shiro wasn't so sure about pursuing the business route, or very much of anything, really.

But one thing was for certain: Shiro adored flowers. He owned and maintained his own little greenhouse near his home on the outskirts of Garrison for cryin' out loud. It's therapeutic. Shrubs, fruits, herbs, flowers hailing from various species and of varying hues... He loved and appreciated anything that struggled up from the soil. The appreciation for life was ever present within him before the Incident; afterward, Shiro came to truly express and show gratitude for everything mother nature wrought. Especially plants.

Had it not been for the coriander blossom sprouting from a crack in his dingy cell, the only constant soul present with him for all those months in solitary captivity, Shiro couldn't fathom what worsened state his mental and emotional health would currently be in. Even with diluted sunlight from his cellar's clouded window, and god knows whatever moisture its roots could snatch from the soil below, the plant retained a sort of proud look. It was a meager thing, sporting a single stem and few leaves, but it stood tall and erect as if it were a sunflower. It learned to thrive in its environment; it had to in order to survive. That spoke to Shiro.

As the days bled into weeks, and weeks into months, he would speak to it and sprinkle some of his own water whenever his captives permitted him any. Bit by bit, the plant flowered. But that was then. Now, that very same [coriander](https://www.google.com/search?q=coriander+flower&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjk-MaBs5TVAhVBQSYKHTYTBZUQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=636) resides in front of the living room window within his one-bedroom home, potted, flourishing, and loved. Shiro likes to think that he also rescued that plant from a withered fate, but in reality, he knows that the plant saved him. So, with that in his heart, Shiro mustered the strength to establish and grow his very own flower boutique, spreading his love of greenery to all.

Because if plants can save him, they can surely save others.

<3

_Midsummer._

  
Monday morning. . .

Shiro faithfully adheres to the same routine every week day: Wake up at 6:45 a.m. Start his morning jog on the trail by 7:00 a.m. after early morning stretches. Return home by 8:00 a.m., finish showering by 8:15 a.m. Clothe and eat breakfast - typically a granola bar and a handful of whatever fruit from the greenhouse Shiro harvested and stashed in his crisper - pop a Zoloft, and make it into downtown Garrison by 9:15 a.m. in his black, '07 Corolla in order to open at 10 a.m. Routine is everything. Such a small thing as having a routine alleviates his anxiety considerably. It keeps him on track, keeps him from fretting over the little things, and it ultimately provides that sense of control. Powerlessness is one hell of an experience.

Shiro's flower boutique, affectionately named Arrangements by Shiro, is snugly settled in a corner downtown in the bustling college town of Garrison. It is a cozy suite stocked with blossoms and plants of all kinds in every direction the eyes wander. Some are hanging in the sun, some are seated in soil beds, peeping out of the many windows in the shop enticingly. They're everywhere, even outside. He attracts a good crowd of customers, so much so that his doors stay open Monday through Friday. Plus, flowers are suitable gifts for any occasion. Not carrying the flowers you're looking for? No need to worry. So long as they are not out of season, Shiro personally makes it his mission to seek out the blossoms for you and have them delivered to his shop.  

Mr. Holt leased the space to him and helped him furnish the shop and get everything up and off the ground. His family runs a bookstore adjacent to his boutique, buying and selling books ranging from the latest romance novel to a used introduction to astrophysics textbook for a graduate course at the Garrison Institute. His daughter Pidge assisted Shiro with setting up the electronic payment system for the sales in-store as well as online for the website that she also oversaw. Shiro's so incredibly grateful for all of them; they've treated him like part of the family from the beginning of his college days with Matt, and all that came after.

Right at 9:15 a.m., Shiro parks parallel in front of his boutique. Keys in hand, he unlocks the door and flips on the cool lights. He really doesn't need them with all the sunlight filtering in from the windows, but it's out of habit.

"Hey, Shiro!" Pidge chimes after a couple firm knocks on the storage door, strolling in and hopping onto the wooden work stool behind the counter, "Your hydrangeas came in early this morning. Matt and I went ahead and put them in the fridge for ya."

It's normal for Pidge to let herself in. It'd be weird if she _wasn't_ in the shop before Shiro.

"Aw, thanks Pidge. I really appreciate that. Is Matt still here?"

"No. He said somethin' about having a class he already took on his schedule. He left to get it fixed about an hour ago."

Shiro nods, tying his dusty black apron to his waist.

"How's he doing?"

Pidge habitually adjusts the frames on the bridge of her nose.

"He's good. S'got therapy at 2."

It's a question Shiro never fails to pose when Matt's name surfaces in any conversation. He and Matt were enrolled in the Garrison Institute as geology majors and immediately became the best of friends. For their final year on the geology track, the pair and their other colleagues in the program were presented with the opportunity to go abroad for a week to the country of Kerberos to study and collect samples from the very unique rocks they were discussing in their lecture halls. It's a trip the program's sponsored for years and, unlike its surrounding neighbors, Kerberos was a neutral land that - for decades -had not fallen under siege by the encroaching, extremist empire of the Galra. Every now and then the news outlets reported on its latest inhumane acts, but at that point in time, the region had been considerably silent with infrequent reports of attacks or advancement despite news of the empire growing like weeds. There was always a risk present, but, in spite of it all, the participating seniors embarked on the trip. After just two days of excavating, the Incident happened. Kerberos' relatively peaceful population was quickly overwhelmed; there was no time to deploy their military. Subsequently, Shiro, Matt, and a handful of their colleagues were ambushed, abducted, and isolated from one another, each held for a hefty ransom.

Shiro was tortured. Emotionally. Psychologically. Physically.

Shiro genuinely learned, breathed, and lived the very raw emotion of being scared. Hungry. Alone.

Shiro was no longer Shiro, but _Shiro_.

They remained detained in the Galra's clutches for approximately two-and-a-half months before their locations were tipped off by a spy within the empire. Shiro remembers one of the institute's professors rushing into his cell the day he was liberated, but he can not recollect very much of that day. Transitioning from a confining five by eight cell to being on his home soil the next morning was more of a shock than he could digest. Yeah, it was rough.

But with a thoughtful smile on his lips, Shiro nods at Pidge's statement. He is so very proud of his good friend. Much like Shiro and their other colleagues, Matt put his studies on pause to allow himself to appropriately process the event and seek counseling after returning from the Incident. It's been a year and one semester, and Matt made the gallant decision to continue and therefore finish his education and graduate in the following semester. It was a shock to the family - and, admittedly, to Shiro as well - but it was the good kind of shock. Matt was showered with love and support regardless, and now he's headed back to GI for the impending fall semester.

Again, Shiro can't be more proud. As for himself, he doesn't know when he's going back.

If he does, that is. It's almost been two years since. Shiro doesn't think about it too much.

He doesn't think about a lot of things.

"That's great. I hope he gets a chance to stop by the shop when he's done."

"I'm sure he will," Pidge gently replies, noting Shiro's telltale softening tone and far away stare. It's a haunting look she's seen her brother wear over the duration of the past year after the Incident. She's learned not to dwell on this subject for too much longer. Nothing good ever comes from digging up old skeletons. And being the ever intuitive person she is, she's also learned not to surprise them, no matter how innocuous her intent. Or to speak loudly for extended periods of time. Or unnecessarily make loud noises. She knows to always announce her presence if she's not in their direct line of sight - hence the alerting knocks on the storage room door that morning. It's been an adjustment, and the two have improved well since coming home, but she'll do anything to help her brother and friend achieve a sense of normalcy.

" _Hey_. You mind if I take a closer look at those hydrangeas? Dad was in a rush to open so I didn't get a chance to really study 'em."

Shiro flinches out of his trance, peering down to his shorter friend. Her diversion worked: A smirk warms his young face. He familiarly plants a hand onto her shoulder.

"Not at all. I need to actually hurry and pot those, anyway. The lady will be by later this morning to pick them up."

In the rear of his store, off to the left, is his five by five refrigerator with about four long rows of space. It's where any and all clipped flowers are promptly sent to be preserved. Some flowers fare well after being stripped from their roots. They do not need to be rushed off for refrigeration. On the other hand, there are flowers that need that instant freeze, like the [pink hydrangeas](https://www.google.com/search?q=coriander+flower&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjk-MaBs5TVAhVBQSYKHTYTBZUQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=636#tbm=isch&q=pink+hydrangeas), or they'll suffer an unattractive, droopy fate. For instance, Shiro has a partnership with a nursery that raises the pink hue his customer was in the mind for - he only had white and blue hydrangeas in stock at the time she placed her order - and they were refrigerated their entire ride over to his boutique. But if not potted soon, the hydrangeas will sag and thusly lose their dazzling appearance.

"They're beautiful flowers," Shiro begins, gripping the handle and opening the fridge, "but you definitely don't wanna put them in a vase with just water and preservatives. They'll wither and die quicker if not properly fed. That's why it's better to pot them, where all the soil's nutrients can reach them better. The food in soil's better for them, anyway."

"Pretty high maintenance if you ask me," Pidge comments, cradling the chilly dozen of pink hydrangeas Shiro plucks from one of the middle shelves. He handles the other twelve, chuckling at his friend's remark.

"They're just a little fragile, is all, but not nearly as fragile as other flowers I've handled," he closes the fridge, "I think the pot she ordered is somewhere in storage."

"I'll get it! I remember it being the cream one. With the weird-lookin' circles on it, right?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Double check the initials marked on the box, though, and make sure it matches the order form. Don't want to give away the wrong pot. Repotting these beauties would be a nightmare."

"I knoooow, Shiro. I've done it only a thousand times."

" _Thank you_ , _Piiidge_ ," he singsongs.

And it's just like every other typical Monday. Pidge lends a helping hand to Shiro with setting up shop and preparing in-store and online orders for the early birds who're coming by early for their arrangements. At the same time, he imparts his extensive plant knowledge to Pidge, letting her in on various tips and tricks to handling and caring for whatever plants pop up during their exchanges. She also briefs him on the statuses of the seedlings he gifted her some weeks ago - two yellow [primroses](https://www.google.com/search?q=primrose&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjTj7_Qt5TVAhWH3SYKHeugDtAQ_AUIBigB&biw=1366&bih=636) and a [Jacob's ladder](https://www.google.com/search?q=jacob%27s+ladder&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjGr_rjt5TVAhXMOiYKHXDKB7kQ_AUIBygC&biw=1366&bih=636&dpr=1#tbm=isch&q=jacob's+ladder+flower) \- and how excited she is to finally see them sprout through the soil. It all ends with Mrs. Holt calling her back to the store, after a little chitchat with Shiro, of course. Next, he consults his watering chart, a day-by-day schedule orderly displaying which plants need to be spritzed, watered, fertilized, or all three. There are measurements, because, just like humans, each flower is not the same. They all have their own, special requirements. It's a little overwhelming at first, but once you've done it as many times as Shiro, it becomes second nature. According to the schedule, the [ivies](https://www.google.com/search?q=coriander+flower&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjk-MaBs5TVAhVBQSYKHTYTBZUQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=636#tbm=isch&q=potted+ivies) are first, requiring only a couple spritzes since they were watered a few days ago. Most of them are hanging from the ceiling, so he grabs the ladder from storage.

Just a half-hour after officially opening for the week, the front door creaks open, followed by the wind chimes. Shiro peeks out from behind the vines of the hanging ivy swallowing him, and eyes the entrance.

"Welcome to Arrangements by Shiro. Looking for anything specific this morning?"

A dark-haired male - donning what Shiro can only conclude is an actual _mullet_ \- steps with cautiousness into the boutique as if he's entered a whole 'nother world.

 Yep, it's just your typical Monday.

Until _he_ walked in.

This is probably the most greenery Keith's ever seen in one sitting. Or in his life. _Probably_. It's sensory overload. Just about fifteen different colors fight for his attention - red, coral (or pink?), yellow, even brighter yellow, a rusty orange, violet - and his eyes do not know where to rest. There are tall flowers, short ones, tiny ones, ones with petals and ones without, ones with petals the size of his hand... There are potted plants, hanging plants that just kind of casually grow to the ground, plants in the refrigerator(?) and... plants that look a lot like the little [piranha](https://www.google.com/search?q=venus+fly+trap&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi404GAtZTVAhXC0iYKHeeWBjgQ_AUICygC&biw=1366&bih=636) plants from video games? Those are actually real?

How in the world is he supposed to decide on a decent bouquet with such a broad variety to choose from? It'd take hours, but for someone not well-versed in the world of flowers, or many plants in general, it's gonna take days. But Keith doesn't have "days." Allura's leaving _tomorrow_. Determined, he inhales and clenches his gloved fist. Okay, he can do this. They're just flowers. How hard can it really be? He'll just pick a nice color and go with it. Maybe something that'll match Allura's eyes? That's thoughtful, right? She'll like that--

"--Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Keith actually winces in surprise at the sudden inquiry. The guy next to him must've saw him wince, too,  he thinks, and great. How embarrassing.

...

......

........Wait.

_Guy?_

Keith  turns his eyes from rows of unique blossoms that put him in the mind of Allura's irises, and redirects his  line of sight up...

Up a little more... _oh._

Wow.

 _Wow_.

Tan skin. Dark, soft eyes. A sharp jaw.

Muscles.

Keith swallows. Okay.

Who is _he?_

Shiro, all smiles, nervously scratches his buzzed nape.

"S-Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. I don't particularly like it when people sneak up on me, either. I called out to you from the back, but you might not've heard me. I was kind of _wrapped up_ in one of my ivies," Shiro explains and chuckles at his own slight joke, because get it? _Wrapped up?_ As in he was literally _wrapped up_ in the plant's vines? Keith continues to just kind of gawk at him, not cracking a smile in the least bit, Shiro notes. Okay, so maybe it wasn't _that_ funny. Flustered, he tries to blanket the awkward moment with a few, quick coughs.

" _A-Anyway_ , I came over to see if you wanted any help with finding anything."

"Oh no, I-I'm just kind of... lookin' right now," Keith manages to get out.   

"Alright, no problem. _Ah_ , I'm Shiro, by the way. I'll be watering a few plants and tending to a couple things 'round the shop, but if you see something you like, give me a holler and I'll be right with you. Sound good?"

Keith nods, full lips thinning into a smile, "Yeah. Thanks, Shiro."

"Anytime... _uhm..._ " Shiro politely waits for the ogling Keith to give his name. Keith's left brow quirks slightly at the other's pause, but he processes Shiro's unspoken cue not a second later, exclaiming louder than necessary, " _Oh!_ Keith! My name's Keith! Keith Kogane!"

"Okay _Keith_ , great. Got it. Well, I'm here if you need me."

Shiro dismisses himself with a little wave and smile. Keith mimics the gesture, watching him walk off, which is a treat. From the tuff of white on his head, to his honey-smooth way of speaking, to the apron snug on his hips, Keith is struck.

Shiro grips the spray bottle from the left pocket of his apron and returns to his ivy, leaving Keith to browse the rest of his boutique. He originally thought it was going to be the elderly woman arriving to pick up her potted hydrangeas. The man's the very opposite. From what Shiro can tell, his eyes are a kind, deep violet hue. All dark clothing, dark hair, edgy fingerless gloves... and yet there is a soft look about him. He's an interesting character, a considerably stark contrast to all of the colors surrounding him. He stands out; Shiro can't help _but_ watch him. Keith's still emitting that "I don't know what I'm looking for" vibe, but he does seem to like the blossoms, a delicate grin twitching to life as he bends to closely inspect each one. Warm bubbles of pride tickle and pop inside Shiro as he witnesses the joy his sweet flowers are capable of bringing to others. The innocence of it all... He loves it. Now spritzing his lively row of [black-eyed susans](https://www.google.com/search?q=black+eyed+susans&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj3oKLCtZTVAhUHNiYKHZCrBFEQ_AUIBigB&biw=1366&bih=636), Shiro cuts his dark eyes to Keith every five seconds or so. He's got his head tilted back now, studying the vines from one of his ivies snake around the windows of the boutique. It leads Shiro to wonder, is he here for a plant, or a bouquet? Or both? Maybe a vase or pot? Or seeds? Is he here for something for his mother? A friend? A significant other? Whoever he's here for, he's definitely never been in a flower boutique before. That clueless, adorable look on his face gives it away. It must be his first time buying flowers.

Meanwhile, Keith is smitten with the many different blooms. Can flowers look happy? If so, Keith imagines they would all look like Shiro's flowers. They're all so alive, and stiff, and green. And _happy_. And soil has never smiled so sweet. He's seen plenty of flowers before, but _these_. These are different. With someone as kind and soft as Shiro, of course they would all turn out the way they are.

"Hey, Shiro?" Keith tosses him a glance from over his shoulder, "Looks like I could use your help after all."

Shiro pockets his spray bottle and strides towards him. Keith may or may not see sparkles flickering around him.

"That's no problem! What can I do for you?"

"I actually came to get some flowers for a friend."

"Easy enough. Mind me asking the occasion? It'll help with the selection process. I can also offer you a few suggestions."

"She's going overseas soon for school. And her father recently passed, too. She's actually leaving tomorrow. I just wanna cheer her up, and she really likes flowers, so here I am."

Shiro's smile sinks at the news.

"Sorry to hear that about your friend. I take it that you'd like to give her a bouquet?"

"Y-Yeah. A bou... _quet._ " He's glad Shiro said it first, because surely he would've pronounced it wrong and risked looking stupid in front of cute flower shop guy Shiro more than he probably already does. But Shiro seriously chuckles or giggles or something - _chiggles_ \- all to himself, like he _knew_ what just crossed Keith's mind, and a lovely pink springs into the younger's cheeks at the sound.

"Perfect. I've got a couple flowers in mind already. If you'll follow me, I'll be happy to show them to you, that way we can get started designing the bouquet."

Keith doesn't remember why he was freaking out beforehand, because Shiro takes good care of him. He introduces him to a few flowers, but Keith falls for the white, [stargazer lilies](https://www.google.com/search?q=white+stargazer+lily&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&sqi=2&ved=0ahUKEwiDiLqptpTVAhUR2WMKHSbvAycQ_AUIBygC&biw=1366&bih=636), ordering a dozen for the bouquet. He chooses an attractive plastic wrap to envelop the blossoms, one littered with many golden "swirly things" as he elegantly describes them. A blue ribbon is chosen to tie everything together. He even goes on to select a simple vase that Allura could house her flowers in once she gets settled in her father's home in Altea.

"Since she's leaving tomorrow, I think it'd be best to assemble the bouquet then. I can have your flowers and vase ready for you a little bit before the afternoon, if that's alright with you? I would want the flowers to stay beautiful for as long as possible."

"Whatever you think is best is fine with me, Shiro," Keith says, following Shiro to the main counter, "you're the expert here."

A soft hum of peach flashes across Shiro's tan cheeks at the compliment, and yes, Keith catches it.

"There's nothing to it," Shiro scribbles something on the form, "so, I've logged your order in my book here. Is there a good number that I may use to reach you?"

"M-My number?"

"Yes, preferably. I'll contact you when your bouquet's ready for pick up."

"Oh. Right." Yes, _right_. He needs his number for the bouquet. Just the bouquet. Keith spills his digits, watching Shiro record them on his order form. He has his number now.

"Gotcha down. So I'll buzz you sometime tomorrow morning when I've finished and we'll take care of the payment then. Eleven o' clock sound good?"

"Sounds great. Thanks for making this easy for me, Shiro."

"It's no problem," Shiro's eyes pinch endearingly as he smirks, "Thanks for coming to see me, Keith."

Keith licks his lips at the mention of his name.

"You bet."

He almost doesn't want to leave. He wishes to stay and chat with Shiro. To learn more about his business, his magical flowers, _him_. He also doesn't want to be creepy, but is this what it means - how it feels - to blindly fall hard for someone? Well, a decision is made up for him: An elderly woman moseys into the boutique, and she obviously has business with Shiro. With one final grin, Keith leaves the counter with a "see you" and exits the shop. He takes a deep breath.

The air isn't as nearly as sweet.

<3

_Evening. Shiro's home. . ._

  
Shiro constantly tells himself that he should make time to cook more - therapist Dr. Ulaz even suggested it - but alas, he microwaves yet another TV dinner after tending to his greenhouse. They're just easier, and far more tastier than anything he could ever produce, which is the irony of it all. He'll do better. Eventually. He works out so it's okay.

Right now, he plucks the monthly gardening mag from his coffee table, opening to the eared page he folded the previous night and picks up where he left off on his love seat. Ten minutes of reading before bed helps him mentally unwind. The next page begins a special feature for those handling flowers for the first time.

And Shiro smiles. It oddly reminds him of Keith. It specifically reminds him of the smile on his face when he was encompassed by all of his blossoms. His grin grows.

 

There's something about that smile.


	2. Daffodil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Hunk enter the picture. 
> 
> Allura talks some sense into Keith. 
> 
> There is a possible misunderstanding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a second chapter~ :'0c you are all sweethearts!! thank you so much for your kind kudos/comments i cannot express to you how much it means to me!! please enjoy this next piece?

Keith is and has always been a free spirit. With an absent mom, a traveling, freelance mechanic of a father whose work takes him to the ends of the world just about, and zero siblings - that he knows of - to weigh him down, yeah, it's pretty easy to do whatever you want. From very early on, he's decided that he's going to be the commander of his own life  and etch his own path. Strangely enough, that path has always led straight up into the vast, purple sky. He's conveniently got his own plane that he fixes up, flies, and maintains regularly - and whether he's doing it legally is his business and his only, thank you.

His temper is famous. If you're wrong about something - anything - he'll let you know. If you say something he thinks is stupid, he will not shy away from providing his biting two cents. If there's a better way to do something, he will certainly shove you out of the way to do it himself. Keith does not hold his loose tongue for anyone, but Allura constantly reminds him that he needs to keep his attitude in check, especially now that he's possibly going to consider a career in flight. She has a valid point, like always.

Never has Keith met someone so intelligent, elegant, and so very genuine. They met his freshman year of high school, Allura being a transfer student from Altea, a well-off country across the pond. They shared a lunch period and a few classes together. He admired her stubbornness and tenacity - at times rivaling if not toppling his own - and she was not at all afraid of putting him or anyone else in their places whenever the need arose. She was and is always looking out for Keith, wanting nothing for the best for him that he often can't see past his cloudy rage. So if there's anyone who can effectively douse the firecracker that is Keith, it's Allura. Truthfully, if it weren't for her input, he would not have even entertained enrolling in the Garrison Institute, let alone its aviation program.

"They're just gonna tell me a bunch o' stuff I already know," he privately persisted to Allura one day at lunch, a few weeks prior to high school graduation.

"I _know_ , Keith, which is a great advantage if you think about it! You'll be able to help so many others, and you'll be a star student for sure. Not only that, you'll get to make a _career_ out of piloting. You already have a scholarship from the program, so why waste it? It'll be a great experience. _Give it a chance_. I just want you to start thinking seriously about your future."

He mumbled something along the lines of people and professors being mentally draining, but he promised his lovely friend he would at the very least consider the option. Keith doesn't know what he's going to do without her, but he's going to have to learn soon.  
  


<3

_Yesterday._

_  
Juniberry. . ._

  
"Over here, Keith!"

Hunk animatedly waves his friend over to their booth in the rear corner of the eatery. The icy-blue rings in Allura's eyes sparkle at the sight of that familiar mullet and pout, pink lips pursing as she smiles around her plastic spoon. Keith, returning a softer smile, settles into the empty seat next to Allura. She sidles closer to the wall to give him more space.

 _"Meet us at Juniberry!"_ was the last text among many others addressed to Keith in the group chat he shared with Allura, Lance, and Hunk. After the three blew up his phone as they collectively fussed at him for not responding while he was busy ogling Shiro at his boutique, Keith hustled right over to the frozen yogurt joint. It was one of Allura's favorite places to hit up with the boys after school, and it became a frequent meet-up spot during outings.

"The boys" consists of Lance, Keith, and Hunk. Their ragtag trio has been inseparable since their middle school days. Keith and Lance were practically in the same class periods each year, and with their daily shenanigans, they often wondered what geniuses in the office thought it was a good idea to keep placing them in the same room year after year in spite of the innumerable complaints from their teachers. Lance being Lance, he made it his personal goal to one-up Keith in everything - in _life_ itself. And if Keith wasn't in detention for mouthing off to a teacher, he was there for the tardy slips he accumulated over the course of a month, or giving Lance a lick or two. Hunk, often the ear that either boy blabbed off, brought and continues to bring a great balance to the group. Even though he found himself stuck in the middle of his two pals' tussles, he remained a positive, radiant, and ever-present light in their worlds. Once high school rolled around, middle school hormones leveled out, and Keith and Lance didn't want to kill each other as often, the trio found themselves to be a great, solid band of friends. Allura fit in nicely with the crew upon her enrollment. She was often the voice of reason when either one of them was about to do something possibly regretful, like when Lance wanted that tongue piercing his junior year (and got it anyway), or when Keith contemplated running away, or when Hunk entrusted her with his budding feelings for his loudmouthed, clueless crush (Lance). She was an invaluable addition to the team, and she could not have leapt her way into their lives at a better time.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Allura teases, elbow nudging Keith in his ribs. He tries to straighten the smile on his lips.

And he loses. He always loses when it comes to her.

Sitting directly across from him are Lance and Hunk, the pair splitting a mixture of chocolate and vanilla, which is more like a soup now. Every selection of chocolate toppings are presently floating close to the surface, or have melted and blended into the soup, enhancing its flavor. It works for them. Keith and Allura typically share a treat, too. Something on the fruitier side, with a colorful assortment of gummy bears, strawberries, caramel syrup, and a thick layer of coconut shavings cushioning the bottom of the cup.

"Yeah, Keith," Lance's ceruleans peek over his hot pink-rimmed shades, "where were you?"

"You weren't answering any of our texts, either" Allura adds on, pouting around her spoon, "I'd began to worry a little."

"Sorry. I was a little busy with somethin'."

Lance squints behind his shades.

"Like registering for fall semester?" he probes. Keith narrows his eyes. He really hates talking about this, and Lance is the unremitting monkey on his back when it comes to this topic. There is a reason, though. Lance will not admit that he's quaking a little in his thong sandals, and not because his muscle shirt isn't really doing much to block the chilly air in the eatery. But because there are so many changes occurring in such a short time: He's going off to school, away from his immediate family, Allura's officially leaving their close-knit circle of weirdness tomorrow, and he does not know if one of his best friends will be at his side anymore. As much as it pains him to verbally admit, Keith has been a constant piece of his life. He cares for him more than he thought he ever would. He does not want their trio to become a duo. He does not want Keith to leave them. He does not want his little family broken up. Call him selfish, but he's not ready to see the mullethead go.

Keith folds his arms in defense.

"I haven't decided if I'm goin' yet. I've still got two weeks."

"But registration ends in a week, and there's only one week of late registration after that."

"Exactly my point," puffs Keith, " _I've still got two weeks_."

"But knowing you, you'll wait till the very last minute to register! There's a higher fee, too!"

"He's got time, Lance. Don't stress about it, man," Hunk beams at the ruffled brunet, pushing the bowl in the latter's direction, "eat up, hothead. It'll cool you off."

"Keith's here with us now, I've got my froyo, and that's all that matters now," she offers the bowl to her friend, too, the extra spoon's handle pointing in his direction, "here, Keith. It's the usual. They ran out of shavings, though."

"Oh. No thanks, 'Lura. M'fine."

Just by the low tone, and the slight wrinkle in his brow, and the bent, thoughtless smile, Allura can tell there's something brewing within him. She does not press in front of the boys. And it's not that Keith does not trust his other friends, no. He just prefers to discuss certain topics - feelings - with the sensible Allura. They are safer with her than inside himself, as a matter of fact.

Although she desperately wants to unravel the situation, Allura never pries when Keith's concerned. She's learned that the hard way. It's always been better to wait it out. Keith will open up only when Keith wants to.

She can only hope that it's soon.

<3

_Yesterday._

 

 _Monday evening. Keith's place. . ._  
  


The good thing about living in the middle of nowhere is that when the cover of night blankets the countryside, not one star, constellation, galaxy, or nebula is unaccounted for. All of their secrets are revealed to only a few pairs of lucky, naked eyes. Stardust clouds the sky in clusters, and many brightly burning meteors make their descents into the atmosphere, providing a delightful show. Since middle school, the boys all congregated on one of many cliffs surrounding Keith's home to spend a little time peering into the cosmos when they felt troubled and overwhelmed by their middle-school problems. It was nice to be reminded of how small they were, and how nothing really mattered. They lived on a tiny, blue rock floating aimlessly on a plane of nothingness. Such thoughts were comforting to them then. They still are.

Allura lived in the city while in Altea, the light pollution barring her from seeing even the bluest of dwarf stars. She fell in love with the view the first time Keith introduced the sight to her freshman year. It was the most comforting thing she'd ever seen. She felt at peace, and connected, somehow.

Currently, the small band of friends are all congregated on their favorite cliff. Hunk and Lance are just a few feet ahead of where the other two lay but far enough to be out of earshot range, speaking softly to one another, shoulder to shoulder. Keith and Allura are laying on the dry earth side by side, arms folded behind their heads, knees bent, eyes reflecting the milky, indigo pool above, sprinkled with white. Their memories are stored in those clouds of stardust. There are secrets, lies, tears, and arguments between the four of them that only the heavens above have overseen. Allura and Keith spend time swapping, retelling, and reliving those instances with laughter, and gentle words, and maybe five or six teardrops racing to join the red dirt underneath them. Keith doesn't want this night to be over. He wishes Allura didn't have to leave. It wouldn't be the first time someone he's cared for exited his life, but why take her? And why now?

" _'Lura_."

Allura blinks. There it is.

He's ready now.

"Mm? What is it, Keith?"

Keith sits up, hugging his thighs to his chest.

"I don't know if I'm just... like... crushing on someone, or if I'm really in love."

Allura can just about hear her heart skid to a stop mid-beat. Did she hear what she think she heard? Did Keith just mention "crushing" and "love" in the same sentence? Hell, did he really even say those words just now? Keith doesn't just throw around the l-word, the word "like" included. She sincerely cannot recollect a single moment, large or small, that they've shared together where Keith had shown any romantic interest in anyone. She does recall holding a private convo with him about feeling an attraction to males sophomore year after a bonfire, but there was never a guy who caught his eye. Now, as if falling from the sky, _this_ comes up.

"Tell me about him," she wisps, wary of the pair before of them. She, too, unfurls and straightens, scooting closer. It's a serious matter, and yet a delicate one.

"I met 'im at a shop today. That's kind of why I wasn't responding in the chat. _Um_. I don't know much _about_ him, but, he was really nice to me while I was there. And... he's good looking. And soft. A good soft, like, an approachable type of soft. He has a nice voice, too, and dark eyes. An' he's tall - taller than me - and he has a kind smile, and warm skin. It's been some hours since I've seen him, but, he's still on my mind. I can't stop thinking about him, either. It has to mean that I like him. And I do. I think. I think I really like him, Allura."

"Oh my stars. _Keith_ ," Allura swallows him up in her embrace, "I've never heard you speak this way about anyone before. He must surely be an angel."

Keith smiles at the befitting comparison, but it quickly shrivels away, "Yeah. But, I really don't know what to do from here."

"Well, it certainly sounds like you're attracted to him. That's the easy part. The hard part will be acting on that. Do you desire a relationship with him?"

What? "Desire?" "Relationship?" In all truth, Keith did not think that far ahead. What he does know is that the hue of Shiro's tan, perfect skin is haunting. He knows the crinkled skin at the edges of his eyes when he smiles gives him bumps all over like magic. He also likes how the syllables of his name are made softer and sweeter when they sail out of his mouth, through the air, and into his ears. Keith just wants to be near Shiro, to hear him talk about his flowers, about dirt, himself, _anything_. He wants to be the only one by his side. So, if that's what a relationship is, he wants that.

"I guess so," Keith replies.

"You 'guess so' or you do? You have to be sure of what you want, dear. You can't go into this half-hearted and apprehensive. Part of building a relationship is all about getting to know the other person. Yes, he's an angel, but that may only be on the surface. Invite him out somewhere. Get him alone. Talk to him, and really listen to what he says and how he says it as he opens up. And be _you_ , Keith. Just be you, and he will have no trouble falling just as hard for you."

Oh boy. Keith didn't think that far, either. Shiro liking him back? And going on dates? And maybe even holding hands like those people on TV? Can that really be him? Can that be his life?

"You think he'll really like me?" Keith asks, timid, allowing himself to be hopeful.

"Of course he will! Why wouldn't he?"

"...You know how I am."

A loner. Awkward. Weird. Keith's gaze falls to his cramped lap. But oh no. Allura will not have any of this.

" _Keith_ ," she firmly begins, demanding every shred of his attention, "you are who you are. You shouldn't change that - or try to change - for anyone. If he doesn't love you for you, then he's clearly not the one, and it wasn't meant to be. You should never have to change who you are for anyone, and that includes an angel. It's not fair to you. You're enough as you are. You've always been enough. And I know this is all new to you, but don't overthink it. Let everything happen as naturally as possible, and I assure you, you'll charm every stitch of his socks off. Okay?"

Liquid pricks the slits of his eyes. With his head now planted on her shoulder, smiling, quiet, and content, Keith sighs and melts into her touch. He needn't breathe another word.

Allura snickers, winding an arm low around his waist.

"You'll be fine."

<3

_Next day, Tuesday afternoon. . ._

_  
Keith's home._

__  
Keith finally gets the text he's been waiting up for since 8:34 A.M. this morning:  
__  
****  
Good afternoon, Keith. Everything's ready for you. See you soon. :)  
  
\- Shiro  
  


After many hours monitoring his phone's lock screen, Keith finally receives the long-awaited text message from Shiro at 10:47 A.M. He drops his spoon in his cereal bowl - a small wave of sugary milk splashing onto the screen - and immediately saves Shiro's number to his contacts. He's lucky number five.

Keith took a shower when he woke, but he took another one for good measure. He switches between two cotton shirts several times before deciding on the one he picked first. He slips on his favorite belt, the one with the white, metal double loops instead of the black. He knocks the red dust off his go-to pair of hightops. Keith takes the time to make sure the rebellious cow licks that typically defy his comb are the only ones standing on end that morning. Before he leaves, he stands before his tiny mirror in his cramped bathroom, assessing the final product. He looks... the same? Keith tries a smile. Okay, that's better.

Time to review the game plan. He's going to drive to the boutique - without getting a ticket, hopefully - pick up the bouquet and vase, pay, and then ask Shiro out to coffee. Everyone likes coffee, right? He won't refuse. Right? Maybe? His heart's still racing just as it did early that morning, and it's sickening. It's almost as if he wants to upchuck his cereal, but he physically cannot. Is this how he's supposed to feel? Is this normal?

Keith snatches the keys off his nightstand.

There's only one way to find out.  


_Arrangements by Shiro. . ._

  
It's luscious. It's full. It's _perfect_.

For his first time assembling a bouquet, Keith chose a nice, presentable ensemble, if Shiro must say so himself. The chosen vase is simple, minimalist, glass, tall, and rectangular. Nothing too fancy, or else it will take away from the flowers' innate beauty. With extra care, Shiro insulates the vase's cardboard box with many layers of bubble wrap. Keith did not select the gift wrap add-on option with his order - an extra, small fee - but Shiro kindly takes time to wrap the box with a pastel blue wrapping paper free of charge. He does not stop there, embellishing the package with a golden ribbon. And why not slip on a tag for Keith to put his and her name? Shiro pulled out a nice, cream bag for Keith to tote it all in earlier, but figured it may be a bit much. He has it folded and set to the side just in case Keith did want to make use of it.

Pidge strolls in half-an-hour after Shiro opens shop. She wasn't present in the shop that morning, so Shiro figured she might have been busy. She joins him at the counter, eyes instantly captivated by the stargazer lilies lying on the marble, and the crisply-wrapped present adjacent to them.

"Mornin', Shiro. Who's all this for?"

Shiro tightens the ribbon around the lilies, "Morning, Pidge. I received an order for a bouquet and vase by a Keith yesterday."

"Keith..." Pidge tests, "doesn't sound like a regular."

"It was most likely his first time buying flowers. I don't think he's ever been in a boutique, either. I had to help him out a little. He selected these blossoms."

Pidge inches closer, scrutinizing the pink-and-white blossoms, "Those are white stargazer lilies. Someone died?"

"I see my teachings are finally paying off. You're correct. It's a sympathy arrangement for his friend. I sent him a text not too long ago, so he should be on his way now."

There's a chime at the door. It's not the Keith Shiro spoke of: Matt Holt appears under the doorframe.

"Pidge. Mom needs you back in the shop for a sec. Said something about the WiFi actin' up."

"Did she try resetting it first?" she pokes.

"Not sure. But she told me to grab you."

"Well why couldn't _you_ do it?"

"I'm in the middle of organizing that shipment you left me with this morning. Just go and fix it, Pidge. It'll take two seconds. You can come back and flirt with Shiro later."

Pidge's cheeks burns brighter than the pink coating the petals of the lilies. She streaks for the door, speechless, escaping the boutique in a blur. Matt lingers, chuckling as he steps aside to allow her room to stomp off, striding for his tall, snickering friend.

"That poor thing."

"Ah, she knows I'm teasin'. You're neck deep in dirt as usual, I see," comments Matt, adjusting the purple elastic band wound around his head.

"Nothing new," Shiro leans on the counter, "what've you been up to? Besides having your nose buried in books."

"Not much. I finally got my schedule all sorted out. I had to stop by GI yesterday. It was only a small hiccup with some of my courses and credits. According to my advisor, I'll be eligible for graduation spring semester next year."

"Spring? That's awesome, Matt. It'll be here before we know it."

"Yeah, s'crazy. I can't believe it's actually happening."

Shiro hesitates for a moment, but he presses on with his next inquiry, "How're you feeling?"

Matt easily picks up on his friend's hesitation, but he understands where he's coming from. There was once a time Matt couldn't even say the college's name without seriously clamming up and shutting down. For him to casually address it speaks volumes of how far he's come since the Incident.

"I feel... ready. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'll be able to handle going back. I tell myself that it'll be okay - that _I'll_ be okay - and I actually believe it," Matt's smile falters significantly, "but... of course it's gonna be different. _'Cause you won't be there_."

It'll be strange attending classes without Shiro, learning without Shiro, pulling off all-nighters without Shiro, _graduating_ without Shiro. They've accomplished everything together since starting college. They were supposed to do all of these things together.

A tiny, weightless smile appears, and Shiro taps his shoulder.

" _Heeey_. Don't think on that too much. I may not be present during the class, but I'll be here with you every step of the way. It's just as you've said. _You'll_ be alright, and you'll do great. I'm just glad to hear and _see_ that you're approaching this feeling comfortable and prepared. I'm proud of you. You've really grown a lot. Which reminds me, I've got you a little somethin'."

As if from the air itself, Shiro presents Matt with a row of potted, yellow [daffodils](https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&site=imghp&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1366&bih=587&q=yellow+daffodils&oq=yellow+daffodils&gs_l=img.3..0l3j0i30k1l2j0i5i30k1j0i8i30k1j0i24k1l3.504.6439.0.6608.35.27.8.0.0.0.201.2957.3j21j1.25.0....0...1.1.64.img..2.33.2945.0..35i39k1.ziywDv1A7JM) from one of the shelves built into his counter.

Matt's ambers widen and shine.

" _Shiro_. Are these part of the batch from late June?"

"Yep. Pidge helped me raise them. They're kind of from the both of us. So you'll have to apologize for teasing her."

Matt carefully brushes his fingers along the fleshy edge of one of the flower's petals, " I remembered when you planted these. They've turned out beautiful. It'll be a waste to give them to me. You know I never could take care of anything."

"Nonsense. If Pidge can grow and maintain something, _you_ definitely can. She measured the length of your window sill in your kitchen for me, so they should fit there without a problem."

"Shiro, I--"

"-- _Take them_. They'll serve as a reminder for you. Here's to your new beginning."

Matt refuses to choke up, but, considering all that he's been put through, he's so thankful that he can have a moment with his friend like this. He's so thankful to be able to speak with him again, and to laugh and joke... to share their intimate moments of pain and fear, to simply _see_ each other again. Because there was a time when he thought he would never see Shiro the way he is seeing him now. Alive and well. And smiling. It's really a miracle.

Never failing to ask for permission to touch, Matt wordlessly requests to hug Shiro by spreading his arms. Shiro copies the gesture, and they wind their arms around one another.

" _Thank you_ , Shiro."

"Anytime."

The chimes sing for the fourth time. Shiro and Matt look to the door. Keith arrives on time. He inevitably gets an eyeful of the hug, and okay, that's nice to walk in on first thing. Matt breaks his hold on Shiro.

"Let me get out of your hair," Matt trades Shiro for his daffodils, "now I'll be the one neck deep in dirt."

"It's not as bad after a while, Matt. You get used to it."

They exchange goodbyes. This "Matt" character passes Keith on the way out, looking absolutely enamored with his newborn daffodils, and doesn't even spare him a glance. Shiro's flowers has that effect on everyone, it seems. Or... was it Shiro? Keith does not get to ponder for long. Shiro calls and waves him over to the counter, bright-eyed.

"Welcome back, Keith! Your bouquet and vase are all right here for you."

And indeed, they are. Once Keith is before the counter, Shiro bequeaths the bouquet unto him. He does not know why he's nervous. He's done this hundreds of times. Strange.

"I've also got a bag for you over here, in case you found it easier to carry the vase in it," Shiro gulps, "is everything to your liking?"

"Yeah. This is all really nice. She's going to love these."

Keith takes care of the payment, slipping in a little tip. Just enough for some gas. Or a sweet snack. He puts the neat present into the bag Shiro gifted him.

"Thanks for all your help, Shiro."

"You're welcome, Keith. Maybe you'll stop by and see me again soon?"

Allura's wise words echo maddeningly. _Ah_. There's an opening.

He can do it. He's got this. Invite him out. Get to know him. Ask him out to coffee. It's just coffee. People do this every day. So can he.

"Uh. So, actually, I was wonderin'... if... do you, maybe, um," Keith's tongue thickens, "want t--"

"--Hey Shiro, I almost forgot to ask. You're still comin' by for dinner tonight, right?"

Keith turns to the door at the sound of the chimes. It's that redhead again, half his body hanging into the shop, the other half outside with the daffodils.

"Yeah, 'course," Shiro responds, "you said six, right?"

"Yep. In the mood for anything specific?"

"Anything you make is better than what I can."

Matt beams, "You're right about that. I'll see ya tonight, then."

Shiro waves at the closing door, promptly redirecting his attention to the man with the mullet.

"Sorry about that. What were you saying, Keith?"

Keith didn't even think to consider if he already had a significant other. Or another love interest.

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid.

Keith's smile is unconvincing.

"Thanks for everything, Shiro."

And that's all he can muster. His ankle pops when he abruptly twists his heel for the door. He thinks of the redhead with the cute smile. And their hug. He thinks of how foolish he was, how naive he was to think that he can just stroll in and talk to Shiro, and audaciously invite Shiro out. And possibly even be with Shiro. Who does he think he is?

Oh, that's right. He's, unfortunately, Keith Kogane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy times are here again. 
> 
> daffodils symbolize new beginnings. c: Juniberry is a play off of the froyo place pinkberry.  
> everything is starting to make a little sense? 
> 
> thanks so much for stopping by. [i](https://beepink.tumblr.com/ask) will see you soon? xx

**Author's Note:**

> the coriander flower symbolizes hidden worth. stargazer lilies are given out of sympathy for a passed loved one.
> 
> hopefully this wasn't too long and dreadful. ;; i'll reveal more bits and pieces of this plot in another chapter(?) it's my first fic in this fandom i'm sorry OTL
> 
> thanks for reading! come say hi on [tumblr](http://beepink.tumblr.com/ask) :3


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